


The Stalklings And The Pixies

by Meg13



Series: The Only Constant [2]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Again, Awkwardness, F/M, The Birds and the Bees Talk, everyone is uncomfortable, poor jim is traumatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg13/pseuds/Meg13
Summary: Walter gives Jim "the talk".





	The Stalklings And The Pixies

**Author's Note:**

> I envision this happening a couple years after S3, but before The Only Constant begins.

“Um, Strickler?”

Walter looks up from the ancient tome on the dining room table to look at Jim. The boy – or should he be considered a whelp now? – is standing across from him, fidgeting and obviously anxious about something.

“Yes?”

“I…” Jim gulps and drops his gaze to the floor. “I need to… ask you something. Personal. Something personal.”

“Really?” Walter sits up, surprised that Jim would choose him to talk to about anything that doesn’t involve changeling lore or training strategies or how best to break the older troll’s wings on Barbara’s behalf should he hurt her. _A step in the right direction_ , he thinks and gestures to the seat across from him. “How can I help?”

Jim glances at the empty chair, hesitating. He scrunches his nose thoughtfully, nibbles his bottom lip, tilts his head from side to side in silent contemplation and then finally huffs his acceptance. Walter watches all of this with a raised brow, unsure of how to proceed until the teenager finally slides into the chair.

“I have this problem,” Jim says after a moment.

When he doesn’t elaborate, Walter urges, “What kind of problem?”

“It’s… about Claire?”

“Are you two fighting?” Walter asks concernedly and folds his arms on the table in front of him. “You haven’t broken up, have you?”

“No!” Jim shakes his head. “That’s the problem. Everything is great. More than great. Perfect.” He sighs. “We’ve been talking about taking our relationship to the next level.”

“Oh? Oh!” Walter leans back, blinking as he digests this information. It’s obvious, now, why Jim came to him for advice. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Jim breathes. “But I don’t know if we’re even… able to? Like. Is it possible? Do you and…” Nope, he adamantly refuses to continue that particular question. “Have you ever had, uh, _relations_ with a human in your troll form?

“Do your mother and I have sex?”

“Dude!”

“That’s what you’re asking,” Walter smirks at Jim’s disgust, “isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” Jim grumbles, shoulders hunching as he slinks further into the chair. “But you don’t have to say it like that.”

“We do, yes.” Walter hesitates to elaborate. All teasing aside, discussing their sex life with Barbara’s son does _not_ sound at all appealing right now (or ever, really) and he’s pretty sure she would agree that it’s not the most appropriate topic of conversation either. Jim’s options, however, are entirely limited and Walter knows the boy wouldn’t have come to him in the first place if he wasn’t genuinely in need of help. “Though it wasn’t easy at first. It took time for her to… _acclimate_.”

Jim closes his eyes, grimacing. “To what part, exactly?”

“The, erm, size difference?” And now he’s blushing. “Changeling anatomy is very similar to humans, but everything is… bigger.”

“Gross,” Jim mumbles under his breath.

“I assume your, er, _equipment_ is still human-like?” Walter asks uncomfortably, ignoring Jim’s comment as the boy reluctantly nods. “Then you should be compatible.”

 _Good enough_ , Jim thinks and starts to rise out of his chair.

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll fit.” Walter frowns and Jim plunks back down with a miserable groan. “You will need to be patient and take your time. Work up to actual… penetration. Barbara and I – sorry – _we_ were sexually active well before I became stuck in this form and we _still_ had to take it slow.”

“Dude, how long have you been screw – No. That’s disgusting. Please don’t answer that question.”

“Well,” Walter smirks, his amusement briefly overpowering the awkwardness, “I just _had_ to put those breath mints to good use after Miss Longhannon so graciously sacrificed her participation in the Truck Rally, didn’t I?”

“I should have punched you when I had the chance.”

“The point is,” Walter continues, rolling his eyes, “it may take you longer if Claire is not as…” How to phrase it without coming off as vulgar and completely inappropriate. “Experienced? Have you rounded third, so to speak?”

Jim nods sheepishly.

“And Claire responds positively?”

“Uh,” Jim scoffs, “yeah.”

“Do _you_ feel satisfied?” Walter asks, thinking that it might be the most awkward question he’s ever asked before.

Jim opens his mouth to make a sarcastic retort, but the words won’t seem to come out. The truth is that, no, he doesn’t feel satisfied even though he knows he should. He shakes his head, flushing plum.

“Trolls have their own,” Walter’s brow furrows as his claws tap anxiously against the table, “mating rituals and, um, turn-on’s. Horn-play, for example, is very common amongst many troll species.”

“Horn-play?” Jim bellows, eyes wide and surprised. “What the hell is that?”

“Uh, well.” Walter clears his throat. “The base of a horn is typically very sensitive, and many trolls find it quite pleasurable to have them… fondled by their partner.” He tilts his head, gaze sliding sideways toward the bookshelf, teeth bared uncomfortably. “Maybe try a gentle massage to determine your level of sensitivity? From there you can decide if you want to incorporate it into your, um, _activities_.”

Jim nods. “Anywhere else?”

“All trolls are different.” Walter shrugs and continues to stare at the colorful spines of the books on the shelf. “What one may find stimulating, another may not. We’re very much like humans in that way.”

“Okay.” Jim frowns. He appreciates the information, but still doesn’t really understand the scope of trollish erogenous zones. “But like,” _and I’m probably going to regret asking this,_ he adds silently to himself, “what are some other sensitive spots that you know of?”

“Well, usually those are areas that feel softer, such as under your chin or beneath fur. Just under tails, too, but that wouldn’t apply to you.” Walter glances at Jim and then down at the table. He just knew the boy was going to ask this question and that he’d have to fumble for an adequate answer. “Personally, I like to have the juncture between my wings stroked or… _scratched_ , depending on the level of, er, physicality?”

“Scratched?” Jim’s knuckles raise to his mouth, as if he’s going to be sick. “So, when I asked you about those claw marks on your back a few weeks ago during training; they weren’t from goblins, were they?”

Walter has the decency to give him a somewhat apologetic look as he mutters, “I don’t think you really want me to answer that.”

“No,” Jim says, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I don’t think I do. Actually, I think-“

The sound of the front door opening stops him and they turn toward the foyer just as Barbara’s voice calls out, “Walt, honey? You home?”

Walter glances at a wide-eyed Jim before answering, “In the dining room, dear.”

“Toby volunteered to watch Walker.” The sound of shoes being haphazardly kicked off into the wall can be heard before Barbara continues, her voice oddly muffled, “He’s got patrols in an hour though, so you better be naked already. We don’t have much – Jim!” Barbara yelps as she rounds the corner in her bra and scrub pants. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying not to puke,” Jim groans as his mother attempts to cover her chest with her arms. He shoots a glare at Walter before standing up. “Thanks for the advice, Strickler, but I think I’m gonna go to Toby’s and repress the hell out of this whole encounter.”

“Any time, young Atlas.” Walter salutes as Jim retreats through the kitchen, once again in good spirits.  “Happy to help.”

“Okay, what just happened?” Barbara asks, flinching when the door to the garage slams shut. She frowns and wanders over to Walter’s side, her fingers absently delving into his silver hair. “I thought he was still in Jersey.”

“Mmm,” Walter purrs as her fingers brush against his horns, and he yanks her down onto his lap.

She giggles. “What were you two talking about?”

“Troll sex.”

“Ha ha.” Barbara rolls her eyes, but Walter only shrugs. “Wait, seriously?”


End file.
